


unwind around a point of light

by springofviolets



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Fluff, Getting Together, Keith & Lance (Voltron) Friendship, Keith is an awesome dog dad, M/M, Minor Hunk/Lance (Voltron), Mutual Pining, Oblivious Shiro (Voltron), Shiro POV, lbr there's a lot of paladin friend interaction, rated Teen for a kiss and shiro ogling keith's butt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-28 10:07:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17785394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/springofviolets/pseuds/springofviolets
Summary: It's not like he's going to woo Keith into returning his feelings by buying him some gloves. But if there are little ways he can show how much he cares for Keith, can take care of him, he'll do it as many times as he can.





	unwind around a point of light

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hazel333](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hazel333/gifts).



> credits:  
> \- thank you to [mercibeaucul](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mercibeaucul) for looking this over!  
> \- title is from the poem "starlight" by william meredith.
> 
> notes:
> 
> happy sheithlentines! i went with your requests for " Mutual pining, oblivious s/k, disaster gay s/k, confessions, hugs, kisses fluff," and with a touch of humor :) i hope you like it!
> 
> this is set vaguely in a slightly au season 7? they're back on earth and shiro has atlas, but it probably hasn't been transformed into a mecha yet, because earth hadn't been invaded when they got back.

The great thing about being back on Earth — besides the obvious, like no Galra armies, and food other than space goo — is being able to buy things with familiar currency. Shiro never really considered himself a materialistic guy before, but being a prisoner and then being stuck in space for years changes you. He's relieved that there's no more trying to work out the conversion rate between GAC and Arielian gold in your head while an Unilu tries to haggle with you.

If Shiro wants it, he can buy it. And thanks to being presumed dead for years while he was actually fighting aliens and helping Voltron save the universe, the Garrison was eager to give him backpay. It's a substantial amount, plus a PR "We're Sorry" bonus. So he may be a guy who's suddenly more materialistic than he knew, but he also has more money than he knows what to do with.

Keith seems to be having the same problem for different reasons.

"Are those _booties_ on your _dog_?" Pidge looks equal amounts amused and horrified as she watches Keith and Kosmo sit at the long mess table. It's an interesting expression.

Keith stares back at her. "First of all, he's a space wolf," Keith says, completely seriously. "And yeah, obviously. It's hot here. Do _you_ go walking around outside barefoot?"

"Okay, sure, that's valid," Hunk agrees amiably. "Delicate space wolf toe pads and all that. What about the tablet he's currently playing on engraved with," Hunk tilts and squints, "He Who Will Name Himself?"

Keith shoves a piece of bacon into his mouth. "He needs enrichment."

Next to him, Lance's mouth opens and closes. A few times. "... I can't," he says finally.

Keith looks at Shiro and shrugs, clearly not understanding their issue.  Shiro smiles back at him, but he can't help feeling the weight of his own pocket as he notices the worn-down state of Keith's own clothes. They're in their uniforms most days recently, but not this early in the morning, and the worn state of his shirts is growing obvious, the gloves on his hands faded and peeling at the edges.

He's pretty sure it's not that Keith hasn't noticed, doesn't care, or can't afford it — he's just seemingly decided that since he still looks presentable, other things are higher priority.

Leave it to Keith to think about his animal companion before himself. Most people wouldn't think of Keith as selfless, Shiro knows, but he is, it's just the pool of people — and in this case, space wolves — he applies it to is so small that you don't notice unless you look closely, and Keith spent years making sure no one did that.

"Maybe next time you can get yourself and Kosmo some matching gloves," Shiro teases.

"Why?" Keith asks blankly. "He doesn't need gloves, and I'm not sure he'd prefer to match, anyway. He can have his own style."

"Oh my god, Keith, you can't just…" Lance trails off, exasperated.

There's a grin threatening to spread on Keith's face, one that says he's just pulling Lance's leg, but Shiro's not entirely sure it's just about that. Keith flexes his fist. "These still work just fine. Besides," Keith says, voice quiet and gaze so soft it punches into Shiro's chest,  "I can't just replace these."

There's only one thing Shiro can do.

*

It's easy enough to obtain another pair of the gloves. He was the one who originally got them, after all.  Handing over his credits gives him a rush of happiness that he doesn't examine too closely.

(It's just nice, he thinks, to be able to do these little, simple things, after all Keith has done for him. It's also nice that he has the time now to do it — there will still be battles to fight, but for once they're not looking around every corner, and he's not spending every minute calculating the team's position and the level of risk to Keith.)

It's also easy enough to find the time and place to casually and very smoothly give them to Keith — it's not a big deal, so the giving of them shouldn't be a big deal either.

They spend an hour most evenings comparing and discussing reports, and generally chatting about their respective days, in the officer's lounge.  They're often the last ones left, late at night, too comfortable by that point to move to one of their rooms. It's a good way for Shiro to get work done and decompress at the same time — Keith's presence is always grounding, anchoring him like nothing else can, and Keith never seems to mind spending the time with him.

"I think I'm done for the night," Keith says, rubbing at his eyes. "The words are starting to make as much sense as Altean."

Shiro gives a light laugh. "None of us ever did bother learning that, did we?"

(He thinks maybe he should, now that Allura is a permanent fixture in their lives here on Earth. It's the least any of them could do to help make her feel at home. Maybe he can talk the others into even listening to a history lesson or two from Coran.)

"Hm, Pidge did. Not sure how much, though." He stretches, and Shiro turns away from the strip of stomach that shows, reaching into his bag.

"I, uh." Shiro pulls the gloves out; they're unwrapped, just looped together with twine, because this is no big deal, not really a gift. "I saw these earlier and remembered yours were looking a little beat up."

Blinking, Keith takes them. "Oh. You didn't have to — I mean, my stuff is all just fine — when I said I couldn't replace them I didn't mean — "

"Keith," Shiro says, and he folds his flesh hand over Keith's. "You know you're allowed to have things for yourself, right? I _wanted_ to get this for you."

"Ha," Keith huffs out, just barely audible, looking down at their hands. "Thank you, Shiro. Of course I love them."

Shiro stores away the vision of his soft smile, right next to butterflies trying to fly from his stomach to his throat.

*

With the successful gift-giving of the gloves under his belt, Shiro starts looking for other things Keith needs that he can provide.

The answer comes soon enough.

One night they all tumble out to Keith's little shack at his invitation, and they treat it with the respect it deserves, Keith trusting them in this space of his. Shiro isn't sure how or why it happens, exactly, but after a few shots of Coran's very questionable nunvil-vodka mixture, he hears Keith arguing that _yes, Lance, he does know how to fix a bike, why don't you come watch and learn_.

That's how Shiro ends up watching them, making sure no one pokes the other's eye out with a screwdriver. Allura sits with him, giggling at their antics.

And it's not like — look, it's not like Shiro was staring at Keith's ass, or anything. Not on purpose. But Keith is bent over as he points something out, and it's just...right there.  What he notices first is the two giant holes right on the left upper thigh of his pants, the slightest shadow visible, the curve of Keith's cheek, and he almost chokes. From there, well. He needs to assess how bad the situation is.

The verdict: those are the only holes in Keith's pants, but also — and really, he knew this already, ever since watching Keith at the Blade of Marmora trials, in that body suit that left nothing to the imagination, but he's tried to suppress the knowledge and failed — he has a really amazing backside.

"Shiro?" Allura says his name. He snaps back to and realizes that it's just them now; everyone else has returned to the main room, and he follows Allura back.

They've all laid out sleeping bags, with the exception of Lance, who's squeezed into Hunk's. At the moment, Pidge has her head pillowed on Keith's thigh while she taps away at her tablet and Keith dozes off, scritching at Kosmo's ears.

Shiro claims a spot next to them and chats in quiet tones with Pidge and Allura until they all drift to sleep.

The next morning, he's helping himself to a pot of coffee in the tiny kitchen nook when he hears Lance and Keith bickering.

"I'm _not_ going shopping with you," Keith says. "Who do I look like? Ask someone else."

"Keith. Listen." He's right in Keith's personal space, and Shiro smiles into his mug. "I can't ask Hunk, because this for a date with him, and it needs to be a surprise. I can't ask Pidge, because she might wear men's clothes, but I mean, love you to death, Pidge, but you're not the style icon I am. And Allura and Romelle cannot be trusted with patterns. You're my only hope, Keith."

It gives Shiro an idea.

"C'mon, it could be fun," he tells Keith. "I'll go with you guys."

*

And that's how he ends up in the marketplace with Keith, who's warily watching everyone like he's a shop owner and anyone else is a potential thief, and Lance, who's flitting around looking for the best stores.

"You know, you could look for some new pants while you're here," Shiro mentions casually.

Keith squints at him. "Is there something wrong with my pants?"

"No — I mean — well." Shiro crosses his arms and looks at the rack of clothes in front of him, then uncrosses them and looks back at Keith. He shifts. "I — I just noticed they had some… wear and tear."

From beside them, Lance snorts. "Yeah, he means the giant holes on the ass."

"Lance!" Shiro sputters. He doesn't need Lance pointing out _where_ he was looking.

"What?" Lance asks. "It's about time someone mentions it to him."

Keith's cheeks are a little pink, but he's frowning and shaking his head. "I'll get some next time. I can patch them up. This store's a little high end for my taste."

Shiro picks up a pair of pants — they're nice quality, and the seams that would do wonders for Keith's thighs have nothing to do with it. "Try some on, at least," Shiro suggests. "My treat."

Keith chews at his lip, but ends up grabbing them from Shiro.

None of them can deny, when Keith begrudgingly steps out of the dressing room, that they look good on him.

Keith won't let him carry the bag after, but Shiro happily pays for two pairs.

*

"Do you think it's like, a kink thing?"  Lance stage-whispers. In the middle of the lounge. At least it's mostly empty, excluding them, Shiro himself, and one cadet trying and failing to look like they're not eavesdropping.

"Is what?" Pidge asks.

"The whole Shiro buying clothes for Keith thing. You've noticed, right? It's not just me, right? I saw it with my own eyes. It's a thing that's happening."

Shiro feels his face warm, and he considers saying something, but he's been around them a long time now and can predict two possible outcomes: either Lance knew he was here and saying something will just goad him more, or he didn't know Shiro was there and revealing himself will just goad him more.

Still — is it that obvious?

"Not everything is a sex thing, Lance," Hunk replies in the same loud whisper.

"That's not what you said last night, big guy," Lance winks.

Pidge throws a pillow at him. " _Gross_ , I don't need to know about that. Can we get back to gossiping about our leaders?"

He doesn't miss the way she still refers to _leaders_ in the plural. The Paladins will always have a part of him, and it seems to be a mutual feeling, the way they still always leave a space for him in whatever they do.

But onto more pressing matters:

"Come on,  guys," Shiro groans. "...and Pidge. It's just — I'm just making sure Keith doesn't neglect himself. I'd do the same for any of you. We're friends."

"Really?" Pidge asks. "Because I'm feeling really neglected without _Killbot Phantasm 26: Revengifiance_."

Hunk nods. "I'm pining away after that new Gaggenau dual-function blender/oven, dude."

"Little ol' me," Lance says, batting his eyelashes, "could use a replenishing of my SK-III face mask stash. You'll pick it up for me, right, Shiro? That's what friends do?"

"If we were still on the Castleship," Shiro grumbles, "I'd have Allura ground you all to your rooms."

*

Shiro knows it's a lie, what he said to Lance, Hunk, and Pidge about it just being something he's doing for a friend.

Because truth be told, Shiro's feelings towards Keith haven't been entirely platonic for a while. His feelings were sent careening off the platonic track when Keith swooped in and rescued him that very first time from the Garrison's clutches. Each day they faced and fought together, Keith grew more. He's an incredible, strong, self-assured, devastatingly beautiful, and so devoted as a friend that Shiro sometimes feels like he could drown in the depth of their shared unspoken devotion — and Shiro is but a man who can't help but fall.

He _was_ telling the truth about how it has nothing to do with that. It's not like he's going to woo Keith into returning his feelings by buying him some gloves. But if there are little ways he can show how much he cares for Keith, can take care of him, he'll do it as many times as he can.

The thing is, Shiro also knows how Keith is, and his streak of getting away with this isn't going to last much longer before Keith either confronts Shiro about treating him like a charity case (he's not) or about Shiro's real feelings behind the gestures (yes, okay, that one's true, even if they're not the only reason).

Shiro needs to get something that will last.

*

"Hey," Shiro says, shoulder pressed to Keith's door frame.  "Wanna play hooky?"

Keith snorts. "And you used to try to make me go to classes."

"There's a difference between classes that are important for your record and the tenth meeting on whether we need color-coded uniforms," Shiro groans.

"Alright," Keith laughs. "But you know my vote is still yes on those. You look good in black." He places his tablet on his bedside table, and Kosmo lifts his head. Shiro notices that he's curled up in a bed with a mattress than looks nicer than his own. From space whale to cushy dog bed, Kosmo's definitely moved up. Shiro momentarily has a vision of him on some reality television show like _Pampered Pups: Spoiled Space Wolves Edition,_ before Keith grabs his attention again. "So, what's the plan, Captain?"

"Don't really have one," Shiro says. "But I thought maybe we could go up to the roof and catch the sunset."

Keith's face lights up the way it only does for Shiro, and his heart flutters. "Yeah, of course."

He makes to grab his jacket, but Shiro shakes his head.

"You won't need that, don't worry."

He looks skeptical, considering that Shiro's holding one himself, but follows Shiro down the hall, up the stairs, to the rooftop.

When Shiro swings the door open, they both step out and look up.  The sky is orange shot with pink, casting shadows and making Keith's eyes glow. Shiro uses that moment to drape the jacket he was carrying over Keith's shoulders.

It's his, but not. Shiro always knew Keith admired the jacket he wore back before everything happened, before Kerberos — he said how cool it was plenty of times. Shiro dug it up, intended to give it to Keith as is, but it was worn from being in storage, all musty and faded. It was also still too big, even though he was smaller and Keith has grown since then.  Besides, as much as Shiro wanted to retain the sentimental value, he wants Keith to have nice things that last, not things that are one moth bite away from falling apart.

Keith turns back to him, eyes wide. "Shiro — what — this is… it smells like you."

"Oh," Shiro says bashfully. "Sorry. Hunk's dad recommended the tailor but I guess, uh, I didn't realize I needed to specify scent removal." They did a great job otherwise, however, and Shiro quietly admires how the jacket fits on Keith. The leather is restored, rich and supple; the lines of it will skim Keith's body, his strong shoulders and trim waist, beautifully.

With a sigh and a shake of his head, Keith says, "No. It's nice. I like it."  He keeps darting glances at Shiro, and there's something about it that makes Shiro think he's never seen Keith look so young. After a pause, he adds, "Was there something else?"

 _Did Keith need something else?_ Shiro thinks frantically. "Do you need something else?" He can do that. "Whatever you want, Keith."

" _Ugh_ ," Keith huffs. He pulls the jacket snug around his shoulders and gives Shiro a fierce glare. "Okay, what is all of this?" he asks. "Are you like, pitying me right now? I thought maybe you were trying to tell me something, but if you're not and this is all just because you're trying to cushion the rejection or what you're trying to tell me is that you see me as your little brother or something, just say it —"

"Whoa, slow down." Shiro holds his hands up, even as his own heart races like he's been bowled over. "What?"

"I love you, Shiro. I know you've been ignoring it or whatever since it happened, but can we…at least acknowledge it, and explain this?"

Almost shyly, Shiro reaches to brush Keith's hair back from his face. "Keith, if this is something that happened before, when I was gone — I have memories, but they're more like impressions, not details." Keith gapes at him.  "I didn't say anything because I didn't know _you_ felt the same way. But I have, for a while now. I love you so much, Keith."

He barely gets the words out before his arms are full of Keith, and Keith's mouth is on his own. After a split second of surprise, Shiro winds his fingers into Keith's hair. Keith kisses the breath from him, overwhelming him, tongue darting between Shiro's lips and inside, like he's a man starving. Shiro tries to pull him even closer.

"I really don't need any of those things you got me, you know," Keith says, when they part with a gasp. "I won't tell you _not_ to, if it makes you happy, but. All I need is you."

"I do like taking care of you," Shiro murmurs against his lips. "Even if it had never led to this, I — I want to take care of you the way you always have me."

Keith grabs a fistful of Shiro's shirt, grinning, and tugs Shiro back to him. "You can start by kissing me again."

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos/comments are loved!
> 
> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject) (including the [LLF Comment Builder](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/post/170952243543/now-presenting-the-llf-comment-builder-beta)), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:
> 
>   * Short comments
>   * Long comments
>   * Questions
>   * “<3” as extra kudos
>   * Reader-reader interaction
> 

> 
> This author responds to comments.
> 
> -
> 
> you can also find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/springofviolets).


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